


Archery Lessons

by CherieoftheDragons (SignCherie), SignCherie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-20 08:32:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1503797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignCherie/pseuds/CherieoftheDragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SignCherie/pseuds/SignCherie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathaniel helps Alistair with his archery.</p><p>For aphreal, who prompted, "Alistair/Nate anything b/c you convinced me this is a thing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aphreal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphreal/gifts).



“I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Alistair complained. “If we’re relying on me to use a bow and arrow, things are probably desperate enough that we’ve already lost.”

Nathaniel simply handed him a bow. “We’re doing this because you never know what situation you might find yourself in, and it can never hurt to be prepared for all possibilities. Suppose you need to hit a target you can’t get to?”

“I’ll get you to do it, of course.”

Nathaniel’s lip quirked. “I may not always be around, Alistair.”

That sentence was more disturbing than it should be. Begrudgingly, Alistair took the bow from Nathaniel. It wasn’t that Alistair didn’t want to learn. It was more that he knew he would look like a fool, and he didn’t particularly fancy looking more ridiculous than he knew he already did. Especially in front of Nathaniel, who somehow always seemed to be cool and poised and made Alistair feel like a baby giraffe in comparison.

Feeling inordinately self-conscious, Alistair nocked an arrow and let it fly. It bounced off the edge of the target.

“Try it again.”

He did. This time the arrow stuck in the target’s outermost ring.

“You’re trying too hard.” Nathaniel’s voice was quiet. “Your form is not bad, but you’re overthinking it. Try to relax.”

“It’s not often I’m accused of thinking too much.”

Nathaniel almost smiled.

With a sigh, Alistair raised the bow again. The thing was, Nathaniel’s words actually did help. Something about his calm manner and the even tone of his voice was infectious. Alistair took a breath, let it out slowly, and released his arrow.

It hit the second innermost ring. Alistair barely held himself back from doing a little dance of triumph.

“Much better,” Nathaniel murmured. “You’re still a bit tense, though. Here.”

Before Alistair knew what was happening, Nathaniel’s strong hands were guiding his arms into position. He placed one hand on the small of Alistair’s back and leaned in close.

Alistair found himself tingling all over. He wasn’t aware of anything but Nathaniel and the way he was touching him. He could smell the other man’s soap, for Andraste’s sake, something pleasantly herbal. Who in blazes noticed another man’s soap?

“Let everything else go,” Nathaniel said, his voice low and slightly rough. Every word he spoke curled warmly in Alistair’s belly. “There’s only you and the target. Nothing else in this world exists. When you’re ready, let it go.”

Alistair let the arrow fly.

It landed in the grass three feet away from the target.

“Well, that went well, I think!” Alistair pulled himself away from Nathaniel quickly. “I’ve definitely got the gist of it now. Just me and the target. Nothing else in the world. No problem. Got it.”

Nathaniel’s brow creased slightly.

“You know, I think I hear the Warden Commander calling me.” Alistair jerked his thumb vaguely behind him. “I’d better go answer her. You know how tetchy she can get if she thinks she’s being ignored. Broodmothers have got nothing on the Commander on a bad day.”

Nathaniel took a step towards him. “Alistair--”

Alistair stumbled backwards. “Thanks for the lesson and all! Archery, very important. Maybe another time then.”

He turned on his heel and fled before he could embarrass himself any further. Behind him, he thought he heard Nathaniel murmur, “I’ll hold you to that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but then I got the bug and had to keep going. Besides, no one else (that I know of) is writing this pairing, and it's too good to let it go. Someone has to write it, so it might as well be me. I will try to update as often as I can.
> 
> (But seriously, the rest of you should write/draw/whatever with these two. The world needs more of it.)
> 
> Oh, and I upped the rating on this to Mature, because it's not there yet, but I'm planning on it getting there.

Alistair wasn’t sure what had happened today, but he was pretty sure it was all in his imagination.

Alistair shouldn’t be thinking about Nathaniel this way. They were friends. Comrades. Brothers-in-arms. Okay, so in reality Alistair was probably Nathaniel’s gawky sidekick more than anything else, but they worked well together and enjoyed each other’s company. Nathaniel didn’t mind when Alistair babbled on like a fool, and Alistair didn’t force Nathaniel to talk when he didn’t want to. They’d gravitated toward each other naturally. They were a good match.

Wait. That didn’t mean...?

No. His imagination was getting away from him. The man had taught Alistair archery, there was nothing romantic in that. Hoping for more was really pushing it.

But then, Nathaniel had leaned in so close to him, and the look in his eyes…

Well -- maybe a little bit of hope wouldn’t be too bad. A man had to have hope for something.

* * *

It was awkward in the barracks that night. It had never been awkward like this before.The men were chatting a bit before turning in, and that was normal. But Alistair didn’t know whether to look at Nathaniel or not. It would be weird if he didn’t look at him at all, wouldn’t it? But how much looking was too much?

Maker, it wasn’t as if they were changing clothes or something. Alistair didn’t want to imagine how awful this would be if they were undressed.

But of course if they were undressed, he and Nathaniel, that would not be awful at all, and at that thought Alistair had to turn away before Nathaniel could see his face turn red.

“I can’t believe how tired I am.” Alistair faked a big yawn. “Really, I’m beat. I’m going to turn in now.”

He didn’t mean to look at Nathaniel, but as he climbed into his bunk, his eyes were drawn to the archer’s face involuntarily. Was he imagining things, or was that amusement in Nathaniel’s eyes?

“Good night, Alistair.” The words were quiet.

Alistair pulled his blankets around him quickly and tried to look as if he were sleeping. He had never noticed before how rough and sexy Nathaniel’s voice was. The conversation continued around him in soft voices, but all Alistair could hear was Nathaniel’s rumbling tones lulling him into slumber.

* * *

“Alistair!”

Commander Brosca’s voice was never more piercing than when she was waking him from a pleasant dream. Alistair rolled over and pulled the blankets around him.

“Don’t make me come over there and get you up myself. You won’t like it.”

No, he wouldn’t. With a groan, Alistair sat up. “What time is it?”

“Little before dawn. Come on, get up. We’re going into Blackmarsh, and I need you at my back.”

“You’re an evil, evil person.”

Alistair could almost hear her roll her eyes. “Nathaniel and Velanna are already up. Stop being a lazybones and take it like a Warden.”

Nathaniel.

“Fine, I’m coming, but I’ll have it on record that sleep deprivation is a form of torture.”

“Duly noted. Let’s go.”

* * *

 

This wasn’t getting any less awkward. Alistair thought it might be getting worse. He didn’t know where to look or what to say. So, of course, he was prattling on like a fool.

“I tell you what, though, I’ll never forget what rashvine nettle looks like after that. I’m only lucky that Teagan didn’t tell anyone what happened. Also that he knew what kind of ointment I would need.”

Maker’s breath, why couldn’t he shut up? Did Nathaniel really need to hear his embarrassing childhood stories? And did he really need to look so interested in Alistair’s humiliation?

“It sounds like you were an adventurous child.”

Alistair laughed. “Adventurous. You almost make hiding in the itchiest plant known to Ferelden sound like a good idea.”

Nathaniel’s lips quirked. “You’re inquisitive. That’s a good quality. Inquisitive people learn far more than those who take the world at face value.”

Alistair could feel his cheeks getting warm, and he ducked his head. “Well, I certainly wasn’t happy about being ‘inquisitive’ when I was covered in red bumps.”

Nathaniel was silent for a moment, and then said, “I remember you now.”

Alistair’s head snapped around to look at him. “What? Covered in red bumps?”

Nathaniel almost smiled. “No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“I saw you at Redcliffe when we were children.”

Alistair’s jaw dropped. “What? How?”

“On a visit with my father. I saw you in the stables. You were the only other person I’d seen who was my age, and I wanted to play with you. But my father wouldn’t let me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’d forgotten that until just now.”

Alistair had a sudden memory -- peering out of the stable door at a tall boy with long, dark hair and fancy clothes. “That was you?”

“I’m right, then. It _was_ you. I saw you, and I was going to say hello, but then someone called you, and you disappeared.”

“In trouble again, no doubt.”

Nathaniel shook his head again in disbelief. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember before. When I asked Father, he told me not to speak to you. I was so disappointed.”

Alistair tried to shrug it off. “I’m sure if you’d met me, you would have been more disappointed.”

Nathaniel gave him a look that Alistair didn’t quite understand. “I’ve never been disappointed to know you.” His voice was low. “I can’t imagine it would have been different then.”

Was that -- was he -- ?

“If you boys are done chatting, maybe you’d like to join us!”

Brosca. Alistair scowled and quickened his pace to catch up. “Maybe if you’d let us get a full night’s sleep, we’d be able to keep a pace that would please you.”

Brosca looked at Alistair, then at Nathaniel, who had followed right behind him. “Yes, I’m sure that’s the problem,” she said drily. “If you’re quite done, then?”

“Sorry, commander,” Nathaniel said quietly.

This seemed to appease Brosca, because she turned and continued walking. Alistair glanced at Nathaniel out of the corner of his eye and gave him a sheepish grin. Nathaniel looked surprised at the acknowledgement, and then his face melted into a smile.

Nathaniel’s smiles were rare, and genuinely happy ones even rarer. A warm feeling welled up in Alistair’s chest.


	3. Chapter 3

Their errand in the Blackmarsh was a minor one, and they were back at the Keep by early afternoon. Because Alistair never learned, he pointed out to the commander how unnecessary dragging them all out of bed in the wee hours of the morning had been. And because Brosca was fonder of Alistair than she let on, she let him go with only a mildly scary glare of disapproval.

She dismissed them all, and they were left to their own devices. Alistair hesitated in the courtyard, trying to decide what to do with this unexpected freedom, and realized that Nathaniel was hanging back, too.

“I was thinking of taking a walk,” Nathaniel said. “Would you like to join me?”

Alistair found himself tongue-tied. “A walk, yes, good! I mean, yes, we should do that. Walk. Together.”

Maker’s breath.

The corners of Nathaniel’s mouth quirked upwards, which Alistair knew was his usual way of smiling. Nathaniel gestured to a pathway off to the side, and Alistair awkwardly followed him in that direction.

What was he supposed to do with his hands? What did he usually do with his hands when he walked? Andraste’s teeth, how could he not know what hands were supposed to do? They weren’t talking. They should be talking, right? Did Nathaniel expect him to talk?

Alistair said the first thing that came into his head. “That was nice shooting out there. In the Blackmarsh. I mean, you killed a lot of undead. Which was good. For the rest of us.”

Dear Maker.

“Thank you.” A pause. “I admire the way you put yourself out there. Direct combat takes a lot of courage.”

Alistair’s cheeks were warm. “Erm. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s taking a beating.”

“In my observation, that’s rarely what you do.”

His ears were hot now. ”Well -- I have an archer at my back to take out the worst of it…” He couldn’t think of what to say next, so he trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.

Nathaniel spoke quietly. “I suppose that makes us a good match.”

Alistair’s heart began to pound, and he hoped against hope that Nathaniel’s words meant what he thought it did.

There was an awkward pause. Alistair was just about to break it with another Maker-cursed string of babble when Nathaniel spoke. “I suppose you’ve had a lot of girlfriends in the past.”

Alistair laughed, and Nathaniel glanced at him sideways.

“Sorry. No, I haven’t. There hasn’t been much opportunity for anything like that.”

Nathaniel nodded slightly and looked forward again, brow slightly creased.

Alistair bit his lip and summoned his courage. “But… you? Have you… had many? Um, girlfriends? A nobleman like you, I’m sure you had plenty more opportunities than I have.”

Nathaniel frowned. “A few. Not many. I always expected to have a match arranged for me, of course. But there were a few dalliances. With women… and with men sometimes.” He gave Alistair another sideways look.

“Ah.” Alistair’s mouth was suddenly dry. “I, uh, me too. I mean, no dalliances, but I -- well, I would. For the right man.”

“I see.”

Alistair’s palms were sweating. He was wearing plate armor, there was no place to wipe them.

Nathaniel stopped walking and turned to him. “Alistair -- do you think--”

Alistair suddenly felt as though his skin was too small to hold him, as if he might explode out of it at any moment.

“It figures. I can’t get a moment’s privacy.”

Alistair jumped at the voice.  Andraste’s teeth, did they have to be interrupted now? He looked around, aware of his surroundings for the first time since they’d started walking. Velanna was sitting under a nearby  tree with a book in her lap, apparently taking advantage of the unexpected free time just as they were. She looked cross. Of course, when did Velanna not look cross?

Nathaniel gave a slight bow. “Velanna. I apologize for interrupting you.”

She only scowled more. “I wish you wouldn’t use your human customs when addressing me. The Dalish don’t bow to each other, and I’m not one of your human ladies.”

His lip quirked again. Maker, that was attractive.

“Forgive me. I suppose I haven’t learned another way to show respect to a beautiful woman. I will try to remember in the future that such attentions are inappropriate.”

Wait. Beautiful? What kind of attentions was he talking about here?

Velanna closed her book and stood, still frowning, but Alistair noticed she was blushing. His heart sank.

“It’s fine. I was leaving anyway.” She looked at Nathaniel again, a long, appraising look, before walking past them, brushing his shoulder as she went.

Nathaniel smiled, a real smile, the kind he’d bestowed upon Alistair in the Blackmarsh earlier. Alistair’s stomach was full of lead. How foolish he’d been, thinking that something as little as a smile could mean so much more. No, he knew Nathaniel’s smiles meant something, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Velanna had drawn one from him much more easily than Alistair ever had.

“Velanna,” Alistair said, trying to keep his voice light. “She’s something, isn’t she?”

“I don’t think she knows how special she is.”

Well, if that didn’t make it obvious, Alistair didn’t know what could. And suddenly he couldn’t stand there any longer. He jerked a finger toward the manor. “I should get going, then. Get out of this armor.”

Nathaniel looked startled. “All right, Alistair. We can talk another time.”

Alistair fled, hurrying toward the castle, trying not to let his eyes sting.


End file.
